


The Goddess May Not Exist, But You Do

by LilMsSoftserve



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Hilda Valentine Goneril is a Little Shit, Just a couple of softies, Short & Sweet, Soft Byleth, Soft Claude von Riegan, Star Gazing, The nightmare isn't actually that graphic, bloody nose, but just in case I tagged it so, hand holding, no beta we die like Glenn, should I tag the bloody nose?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27082396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMsSoftserve/pseuds/LilMsSoftserve
Summary: He hadn’t believed in the Goddess, but Byleth had earned his faith a long time ago. Her confession was enough to sway his beliefs. His faith in her was so strong that he predicted her return from death, against the skeptical judgment of his comrades and friends. Claude could still recall how sadly Lorenz and Hilda and the rest had looked at him. As though he was spewing the premonitions of a madman. But, he was right to believe in Byleth.Because she’s here.In which Claude has a nightmare that Byleth doesn't exist, and he just has to confirm that's not true.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	The Goddess May Not Exist, But You Do

She was absent from every nook and cranny of the Monastery. Absent from the training grounds, absent from greenhouse, absent from the docks, absent from the graveyard, absent from the Cardinal Room, absent from the library. Gone. As though she never existed.

Her room, once full of everything herself, _Byleth,_ was now devoid of her. Instead it was full of crates of bloody and broken weapons. Bloody and broken armor. Bloody and broken memories.

Claude could feel his heart being slowly ripped from his chest. He could feel the ghostly, cold hands of Edelgard circling his neck. Hubert’s twisted smile taunting him. Guilt gnawed at his gut at the thought of Dimitri’s bloody and broken body. The corpses of his once-fellow classmates danced in his periphery. Claude felt nauseous as his parents’ phantom eyes stared at him as though he were a stranger. _Outsider._

He wandered numbly about the Monastery. The place appeared to have never been repaired. Torn asunder and covered with dust. He was searching, searching, searching – finding no trace of the women who was also an outsider. The Ashen Demon. The one who walked with the Goddess. Miraculously, she had promised to help him see his ambitions come true in a bright, new dawn. Miraculously, she had learned how to smile. Learned how to rage. Learned how to cry. Claude wondered, if alongside himself, she had also learned how to trust and love.

She shone in his memories, but she was gone. Absent from everywhere, physically and in spirit.

_Where are you. Where is anybody._

Finally, he stumbled up to Hilda. His friend. His comrade. In a haze she appeared before him on the bridge that lead to the Cathedral. Except the holy place was gone. The bridge stretched and stretched and stretched into nothingness. Into a thick, grey fog.

“Hilda, where is she?” Claude felt he didn’t have to explain who.

Hilda asked anyway, “Who?”

“ _Professor,_ ” he answered through clenched, bloody teeth. When had he been hurt? When did his gums start to bleed?

Hilda smiled almost teasingly, in a way reminiscent of her younger self trying to charm her way out of work. “I don’t know if I can help you if you’re going to be so vague. I’m kinda busy, you know?”

He wanted to scream. “Teach. _Byleth!_ ”

Suddenly, the smile dropped from Hilda’s face, and she looked upon him with pity. In the same way she would look at him when he promised her that Byleth would return to them. Claude felt his stomach lurch.

“Oh, Claude…. Everybody knows that the Goddess doesn’t exist.”

Then the bridge dropped out from under their feet, and all he could feel in his core was the hollow, helpless sensation of falling.

◊◊◊

Claude hit the floor face-first, his legs tangled in sheets. Before he could register the pain, he realized where he was, and instinctually jolted to his knees, grabbing the dagger hidden between his mattress and bed frame and aiming for an intruder who wasn’t there.

After a minute of heavy, deliberate breathing to calm his nerves, he lowered the knife. He was alone in his bedroom. All his askew paperwork and books were as he had left them before turning in for the night.

Looking down, he saw – then finally felt and smelled – blood dripping from his nose and staining his shirt. Breathing deeply once-more through his mouth, he composed himself.

_I had a nightmare. I fell off my bed, and I gave myself a bloody-nose. How perfect._

With a shaky sigh, Claude untangled his legs from his sheets and stood up. His head ached from where his forehead had hit the floor, and his skin was covered in cold sweat. Grabbing a rag, he pressed it to his nose to stop the flow of blood. He threw on his boots and left his bedroom, needing fresher air to breathe.

As he reached outside, he let moonlight guide his feet to the small dock at the pond. The gentle wind that rippled the water felt good against his burning skin. The sky was clear and the stars shone in a comforting, familiar way. His mind felt more at peace under the stars. However, as he breathed in to smell the drifting aromas from the greenhouse, all he could smell was his blood.

And inevitably, before he could think of anything else, the reason for his nightmare washed over him like a wave.

_Byleth._

The anxiety from his nightmare crawled up his spine and settled back into his chest. Cursing under his breath, he kicked the dock with the toe of his boot, grounding himself with the hard feel of the wood.

_She’s fine. She’s here. Teach came back and has been by my side since we reunited at the Goddess Tower._

Unbidden, dream-Hilda’s words echoed in his mind, ‘ _Everybody knows that the Goddess doesn’t exist.’_

Claude tentatively looked over his shoulder and up. The Cathedral was there, looming over the Monastery like a protective mother. He didn’t believe in the Goddess. Or at least, he used to not believe. Then Byleth had told him that Sothis lived in her mind for a while before merging with her soul.

He hadn’t believed in the Goddess, but Byleth had earned his faith a long time ago. Her confession was enough to sway his beliefs. His faith in her was so strong that he predicted her return from death, against the skeptical judgment of his comrades and friends. Claude could still recall how sadly Lorenz and Hilda and the rest had looked at him. As though he was spewing the premonitions of a madman. But, he was right to believe in Byleth.

_Because she’s here._

With little other thought, Claude began walking towards her room. He believed in her, but the anxiety in his chest still ate at him like an irritating leech that he couldn’t reach and pry off by himself. He needed to actually see her – maybe hold her – to settle his frayed nerves. Then he could sleep. Sleeping soundly had always been difficult for him. In wartime, he knew he couldn’t afford to lose opportunities to rest. Not while everyone was relying on his sharp mind. He couldn’t let Byleth lead alone.

Reaching her door, he willed away his shakiness and knocked steadily three times. He made it a habit to always knock in the same way, so she would know exactly who to expect once she opened the door. An eagerness stirred in him once he heard groggy footfalls, and when the door creaked open Byleth greeted him with a small, tired smile. But it quickly morphed into a look of alarm.

Before Claude could question it, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into her room, quickly closing the door behind her.

“What happened?” she asked, sounding as though she was on a battlefield, “Were you attacked?”

Claude clammed up for a moment, offset by her distress.

He was also equally relieved by the sight of her. Moonlight lit up her figure. She was clad in a simple, sleeveless nightgown. Her starlit hair was rumpled from sleep. However, her eyes were sharp in juxtaposition to her sleepy-appearance. Ready to fight. Ready to protect. Unmistakably Byleth. Of course she was here. He knew she would be. That didn’t stop his heart from singing with joy at the sight of her. It felt like reuniting with her all over again at the Goddess Tower.

“Claude!”

He jumped at her voice, effectively startling him out of his musings. Remembering her panic, he followed her line of sight to his blood-stained shirt and the rag still clutched in his hand.

_Ah, right._

“Probably not the best way to appear at your door at an un-godly hour, huh?” he laughed lightly, if anything to ease her worry. “Relax, my friend. I just got a bloody nose.”

He watched her shoulders drop as drowsiness returned to her frame. Her sharp eyes drooped with exasperation. Or maybe from exhaustion.

“Really? Is that all?” She rubbed her eyes for a second before narrowing them back at him. “Is that why you woke me up?”

Before Claude could respond, Byleth strode up to him, reaching her hand up to skim her fingers across the bridge of his nose. A pleasant shiver ran down his spine at the contact before he felt the the tingling sensation of healing magic mend whatever was causing the bleeding.

As she began to move away, he dropped his rag and grabbed for her hand with both of his, holding it firmly between them.

“Thank you, ah, and no…. I didn’t just come to bother you for that. Honestly I forgot I even had a bloody nose.” He tried swallowing down a budding nervousness before continuing, “I would like to think I’m not _that_ imposing.”

He delighted in the lovely little smile that graced her lips, and the way her eyes crinkled in mirth. “Well, most of the time you’re not.”

“Only most? How insulting, my friend! Though I suppose it is the middle of the night. Not the best time for….”

Claude wasn’t sure how to finish his thought. He believed in Byleth, but even with his most trusted friend standing before him, it was hard for him to admit his fears. To share his nightmares. He hadn’t expected her to drag him into her room, but now that he was here, he didn’t want to leave.

His dream had stolen her existence from this very room, filling it instead with bloodied weapons in disrepair. Now he stood here in realty, holding Byleth’s hand. Her room was full of her presence. It smelled like flowers and metal and ink. Her desk was like his, covered in paperwork, books, and maps. He could see gifts from her former students and from himself decorating the shelves and corners of her space. The blankets on her bed were rumpled and thrown aside. This room was lived-in. It was Byleth’s.

_She’s here. She’s real. With us._

“Claude?” Byleth called his name quietly, startling him out of his thoughts. She looked at him with concern. “Are you certain you’re okay? You look distressed.”

He tightened his grip on her hand. He had no intention of sharing his bad dream, but now…. he wanted to. While there were some secrets he still had to hold to his chest, Claude had no intention of hiding his true self from the women who had so firmly won his faith. His trust.

“I’m sorry,” he began, unsure of what he was even apologizing for. “I had a nightmare. One where we lost you. Or, more specifically, one where you didn’t exist. I thought, for a moment, it was real. It…. terrified me.”

He ran a thumb across her knuckles, grounding himself once again with touch. Now from the tactile feel of her cool skin. She made no motion to pull away. Even with that comfort, he was too afraid to meet her eyes.

A loud silence filled the room. Continuing to stare at their adjoined hands, Claude gave Byleth a moment to find her words. He knew she would reply, but he also knew she was the type to always consider her words carefully in an emotional situation. As strong as she was, dealing with emotions was still relatively new to her, after all.

Finally she shuffled on her feet and spoke, “I won’t leave you. I’m here to see you all live through this war, and to see the bright future you have in mind.”

Claude willed himself to look up and meet her eyes. When he did, he was assured by the ever-unwavering confidence burning behind them. Their ethereal, green glow bade him to not look away.

“Nightmares can’t be avoided,” she continued. “Fear and regret inflict all of us. You know that better than anybody. But I also know that even when faced with very _real_ despair, you’re able to see a brighter path to take.” She reached up with her another hand to grasp at his, joining the rest of their hands between them. “I believe in your future Claude. With everything. So for as long as I breathe, I will continue to fight for it. I’ll be here. You can always count on that.”

He believed that. He had no reason not to. Byleth always kept her promises.

Taking in a shaky breath, he smiled down at her, hoping it conveyed all the love he felt for her. He was grateful for her stalwart conviction. Claude could return the sentiment tenfold. Instead he gently pried a hand from hers so he could rub away the stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“I’m so grateful for you, Byleth. I know I’ve said it before, but I hope you always walk in step with me. Even after this war. If you’ll have me. I’d like to see your ambitions come true as well, whatever they my be.”

“I know,” she gave his hand another squeeze. “I want that too.”

“Good,” he squeezed back.

They stood in a comfortable silence, taking in each other’s presence. After a few moments, Claude leaned forward to press his nose against the crown of her head. He could smell the wildflower soaps that Leonie had gifted Byleth in her hair. But he also still smelled his blood.

Claude sighed, “Would you mind, my friend, if a borrowed you water basin?”

“Of course,” Byleth answered, pulling away. “Let me grab you another washcloth.”

Once she handed him a new rag, he used the water from the basin to wipe away the dried blood from his nostrils. He also dabbed away the sweat from the back of his neck. As he finished, he felt a gentle hand tug at his shirt.

“Come on. You woke me up.”

Claude could only laugh, allowing her to guide him towards her mattress. Falling on the bed together, they wormed their way under her blanket. After a moment’s hesitation, Claude pulled off his blood-stained shirt and tossed it to join the rags on the floor. If Byleth minded, she certainly didn’t show it. Instead she wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled him closer so she could bury her face in the crook of his neck.

“Rest well, Claude.”

“You too, my dear.”

Byleth, being a true mercenary, was able to fall unconscious in a mere few minutes. Her soft breathing and cool skin lulled Claude back into a state of drowsiness. Before he drifted off, he reached up to hold her hand close to his heart. He was certain he wouldn’t have another nightmare tonight. His dreams were always sweeter when Byleth was in them.


End file.
